Solitude
by Jaganashi
Summary: Kitsune are not solitary creatures. Shortfic. Potential Kurama/Yusuke, depending on the imagination.


(Hm. Not exactly what I had in mind, but as usual, Kurama thieved away my words and wove them into something that I wasn't expecting. Why is he so unpredictable to write?)

**Solitude**

Kurama craved companionship, it was true.

Whether it were a single lover or a bandit of comrades, Kurama had spent little of his life lonely. To live his life as a human, pleasing a woman who would never know who or what he truly was, it equated to a voluntary solitude. No one would know him here, as no one should.

But that wasn't how the life unfurled. Desperate measures, and the sacrifice of a friend. Debts and battles, detectives and demons; they all brought him to light. He now had a small handful of individuals that he could slowly, tentatively consider friends. Human for the most part, with very human perceptions and expectations. Humans whose experience with Youkai had been nothing but malice and violence, save for but himself and Hiei.

Hiei.

Kurama had reached out to the demon. Calculated gestures, measured reactions. Analyzing before moving, then sometimes doing so anyway. Responses from the other were small and fleeting, without affection but filled with the compassion of understanding what Kurama's loneliness must be like.

Perhaps there would have been more if Hiei were another Kitsune, or an Otherkin of any type. But he was fire, born of ice, and not entirely comfortable with the casual intimacy of something furred.

Kurama knew this, and counted him all the more a friend for what was given. He was rather certain, even, that he and Yusuke were the only people the smaller demon would consider the loyalty and bondage of friendship for. As begrudging of it as he liked to seem.

And there had been jealousy. The emotion was not something that Kurama was proud of, but it had been there as he watched Hiei give of himself to that demon lord things that Kurama had not even glanced of in their time together. Kurama fought through pain and his own turmoil, pushing away the near unconsciousness from lack of blood, as he vigilantly watched the battle. That virulent creeping of jealousy tugged at his loneliness.

It was petty and easily dismissed, as Kurama was nothing if not logical. Hiei and Mukuro had obviously found something in one another that they needed, and he knew that it was something that he did not possess to give. It was something more than their own friendship, and he did not begrudge Hiei for that. The fox had not intentionally tried to seduce the Jaganshi into his companionship, so there had been no matter of a damaged pride. The ache that he experienced was nothing but an echo of his own solitude. A solitude that had been made ever more profound by his newfound revocation of Youko.

The years between Hiei's decision to stay in the Makai and Yusuke's return from it, Kurama waited.

Kuwabara waited as well, for the return of his best buddy that he wanted to share stories with again, and who he worried about on occasion. Keiko waited for the return of her childhood friend, that she wanted to be more, and who she was saving her heart for. Kurama waited for the only real companion that he had...

But to think any further than that, to put more definition to it, Kurama was at a loss. He could easily identify the others' relationships with Yusuke, yet he could hardly name a place for himself in the life of a Mazoku who chose to play human.

Yet here he was, very much a part of that life. They were each often invited to the other's family meals, shared with Keiko or Kurama's own human family. Movies and concerts were a typical venue for a 'guy's night out', though they frequently found themselves doing less than typical things. Running for the hell of it, training in deserted areas, discussing techniques and Makai politics.

Discussing things of a more personal nature. They would talk of everything and nothing, never really tiring from the other's company. Kuwabara had called it a bromance, and Kurama would catch Keiko looking at him as if he were something that she didn't understand but accepted for the sake of her husband's happiness. Perhaps the woman recognized that the fox filled some sort of need that, try as she might, she had never been able to satisfy in this man that belonged in a different world. Yusuke was happy, and Keiko had never felt threatened or jealous by Kurama's comfortable relationship with him.

He wondered at that, at first. Was she just naive? Their friendship had come easily, as something warm, fierce, and genuine. The fox had, at times, entertained thoughts of seduction. Did Keiko ever consider it a possibility that Kurama desired the most intimate place in Yusuke's heart for himself?

Not that it mattered. Any such thoughts of intentional seduction had quickly been swept away in the wake of a naturally developing companionship. Their friendship had become something too real and too valuable to gamble on manipulations.

Because given time, they would become more on their own. Kurama was certain of this.

He wondered if Keiko's peaceful acceptance was because she knew. He cared too much for the boy's happiness to do anything other than support Yusuke in his pursuit of closure for this human life.

A human's lifespan was not too long of a wait, after all.

Kitsune are not solitary creatures.


End file.
